6 Trillion Years and Overnight Story
by North of the North
Summary: Mathew has always been forgotten by his parents; but, he still loves them, and when his father enlists to be a fighter pilot Mathew manages to sneak onto the plane with him. Then his father's plane is shot down.
1. Chapter 1

Set in one of the world wars. Inspired by the picture of the boy with a shackle around his ankle in the cover of the song done by Juby Phonic. The setting was partially inspired by her words "hate me and despise me when I haven't done a thing".

This is the first of two different stories I wrote out, both of them inspired by the same thing above. Whichever one you like best, I'll continue.

* * *

For this one, when people are talking, they are speaking German unless it specifically says they are talking in English. This is probably totally historically inaccurate, by the way, in a bunch of ways.

Gunfire shot up in the sky, and an explosion lit up the night with it. A plume of smoke could be seen trailing behind an airplane that was now falling towards the earth. It had been hit.

The ground troops swarmed towards the area where it would land. It had been the last plane to stay flying, and it was the last one that still needed to have its occupant killed. Maybe their general would even let them draw out the death in revenge for how long it had taken.

This was not to be for both of its occupants, only one was killed immediately. The general must have guessed at his soldiers intentions, it had been his gun to give the shot to the man's head inside. The other occupant of the vehicle had been found behind the seat, cowering.

"They are letting little children fight for them now? The cowards." The man who had hold of the boy's arm said while shaking him. The child was frightened. He gulped loudly, and shook with fear. The general guessed that he had gone into shock.

"No," the general said. "I doubt that's it."

"Boy," he said now in English. "Was that your father?"

The child nodded, his golden curls bouncing around his head. One of the curls stuck out from the rest in front of the boy's face, even when the child tried to push it back behind his ears it sprang back to its former position. It was cute. The general made a decision in that moment that spared the child's life.

"It would be dishonourable to kill him." He said talking to his soldiers again. "You," he signaled out a single soldier from the mass grouped around him. It was the youngest soldier in the group, he was their weakest link anyways. This would get him out of the way. Two birds with one stone. "I want you to take this boy back to my tent, and make sure he stays there. My son, Ludwig, has seemed lonely for the past while, and he needs a playmate. This child will suffice. Make sure he comes to no harm along the way. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good." The general turned towards the child again. "Your name?" He asked in English.

"Mathew." The boy sniffled, then finally started crying.

The soldier that was to guard him went up and gently took his hand and started to pull him away from the wreckage of the plane.

"How could someone bring their child onto the battlefield like that?" One of his men asked.

"He didn't mean to. The child likely snuck on before his father got in so he could stay with him. He probably stayed hidden the entire time so his dad wouldn't turn back and leave him...does anyone know what the nationality of the nearest enemy base is? That's where he," He glanced at the body of the man in the plane. "That's where they would have come from."

"American I think, no wait. They are Canadians. About a dozen fighter pilots that were sent out here a few days ago as far as I could tell from the radio I heard was intercepted." It was one of the youngest there, he hadn't been there long. How he managed to find that information out the general had no idea, but it was good to know.

"Alright, I'll remember that. Thank you. Now, everyone, fan out. We need to get back to base camp. If you step on a mine, it's your own fault, and you'd be stupid for doing it. Move out."


	2. Chapter 2

6 trillion years and overnight story

Back at base camp, the commander of that particular division had taken a liking to Mathew.

He had insisted on his little boy, Ludwig, coming out to watch how he trained his men, how he planned out his attacks, and the battles that were fought. After all, his son was raised from the best of pedigrees, pure German heritage all the way back as far as he himself could trace it. His son needed the best.

Unfortunately, his son was still a weakling of a child, and he had seen him moping around camp. Staring longingly after the men who acted as comrades with arms slung over each others soldiers, enjoying each others time.

Then, a scouting mission he had sent out came back in, with a tiny little waif of a blond haired child tagging along behind them.

He'd raised an eyebrow and the response was immediate.

His fighters had finally managed to shoot down the British ace pilot who kept killing off all their fighter planes. The boy had been found hiding inside the plane. A stowaway. Hoping for some more time with his father, only this time had not ended very enjoyably judging by the tear tracks marking up the boys now grimy face.

He was perfect. Pure white skin, such blond hair he could be mistaken for an angel. Small enough that his Ludwig could practice with defending the boy during practise fights. His son could become the loyal protector and fighter he was aiming for.

He had finally found the perfect gift for his precious son.

* * *

*Two weeks later*

* * *

Mathew's POV

Controls are beeping around him. All he can hear is the wind rushing past outside. He is in the cockpit of his father's plane, hiding. His Dad, Arthur Kirkland, does not know he is there; then again, he never seems to know where he is anyways so this was nothing new.

His stuffed bear, named Kumajiro is clutched close to his side. The bear huddled up by him is making it hard to breathe, it takes up so much space, much more than he himself does in his chosen hiding spot. But Mathew is grateful for the company, he wouldn't be able to stay as quiet as he has been now that a storm has broken out and he can hear bullets clattering against the side of his father's plane. And it is frightening.

Those bullets, plus his father's swearing, are the only sounds he's heard for hours since he's stepped into the little fighter plane. It's so loud in there, nothing can be heard, and now that he is hearing these new sounds, Mathew just wants to cry more.

Everything here is so **so** much scarier than he thought it would be. He thought his father would see him at some point, that they would have a fun fly together and his father would finally see him for once, ruffle his hair and call him a good boy, maybe even say that he loved him, but he never did and it's so cramped that he can't get out himself, and he was too scared to make a noise...even now as the plane starts to tilt down and his father is cursing more and groaning in pain. Which abruptly ends in a gurgling sound and blood dripping down onto his head and staining his poor stuffed polar bears fur a bright red. Mathew only whimpers quietly and huddles closer to his bear. He doesn't want to think of what the sudden silence above his head meant.

The nightmare ends, and Mathew sits bolt upright in bed. Across the room from him, Ludwig is still sleeping in his bed. Mathew cries, and reaches out across his bed, questing for something, only to remember...when those German soldiers had found him, he had left Kumajiro behind. In the cockpit. Next to his father's corpse.


End file.
